


Magnetised.

by static_cryptid



Category: Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Felicia is a super minor character sorry, I'll tag it more later, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Light Angst, M/M, Reunions, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21618529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/static_cryptid/pseuds/static_cryptid
Summary: Just some trials and tribulations of parksborn to get me back into writing.
Relationships: Harry Osborn & Peter Parker, Harry Osborn/Peter Parker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	1. Repelled.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't done any writing outside of roleplaying in a very long time, just a note.
> 
> Pretty sure the fandom is dead but I'll hope there's enough need for parksborn content for people to read my shit.
> 
> My writing for these two is almost always based in The Amazing Spider-Man universe as it's my favourite on a purely aesthetic level, but that context can be taken with a grain of salt or disregarded all together if you really want.

It wasn’t as if they were fighting. There was no argument, no altercation to speak of; just radio silence between the two. It happened occasionally, perhaps it was inevitable between Harry’s position in Oscorp and Peter’s alter ego. They were busy, often growing apart and letting days to weeks pass them by without so much as a text exchanged between them. After the first few rounds of it happening, Peter could almost feel it coming on, could prepare himself for the way his boyfriend would just disappear without a trace, as if he’d never been in Peter’s life to begin with.

Harry had always been something of a ghost. Between Norman’s belief that children should be seen and not heard and wanting to avoid the spotlight in any ways that didn’t suit him whilst he was in middle school and high school, Harry was well practiced in breaking down and building back up the walls around him. His drawbridge of sorts kept him safe, allowed him to keep people at bay when necessary, and to let them in when he could no longer take the isolation.

But Peter had learnt to prepare for that absence, not take it so personally or be as emotional about it as he had the first, second, or even third time. He knew he’d come back. Sometimes it took a little coaxing, and Peter was more often than not would have to be the one to make the first move, but he would come back. And, before he knew it, he’d have his boyfriend back in his arms again, as if nothing had changed.

This time it was different.

The first text from Peter went by unresponded to. It was simple, Peter offering to bring food or coffee up to Harry’s office. He offered to stay for a while but mentioned that he could leave right after too, trying to give Harry enough control and breathing room in equal parts to make Harry more comfortable, and to make it more likely for his boyfriend to accept the offer. As the third day of being left on read rolled into the fourth, Peter gave up hope of Harry getting back to him.

He made it a habit of swinging by Harry’s office and house at different hours of the day, telling himself that he was only checking, surveilling as Spider-Man the way he would any other area in the city. Completely only doing so to keep people safe, not at all to check that Harry was still alive and looking as well as he could. Peter knew if that were the case, he wouldn’t have been less subtle about it, knew he wouldn’t have swung so fast by the windows, only stealing short glances in to avoid the Osborn heir - or anyone else, for that matter - picking up on his watchful eye.

Harry was alive, at least. He knew that much. According to Gwen, things at Oscorp were running smoothly as ever, which made sense with how little Harry left his office. Peter had even been so bold as to wait for Harry to leave one night - noting the swayed of his body and the slight stagger as he walked to the car that was waiting to take him back to his mansion - before riding the elevator up to his office to ask Felicia if he was alright.

She had seemed willing enough to answer, and just as willing to not mention it to Harry, both of which Peter found himself infinitely grateful for. Amongst the corruption and crime going on within Oscorp, it gave Peter the slightest bit of hope to know at least the woman at Harry’s side most frequently was good hearted and kind, going as far as to send Harry home when he seemed more sick than usual or if she hadn’t seen him leave the office in what was considered too long, even for Harry.

In spite of his light investigative work, Peter still had no answers as to why his text wasn’t responded to. So he dropped it, cast it to the back of his mind as much as he could, figuring that nothing was majorly wrong and that that was an overall positive.

It was another week before Peter tried again, another round of offering to meet with Harry, though his suggestion was a movie this time, figuring it was more exclusive to them spending time together than dropping off food. He made sure to joke that Harry had time to leave the office even if he didn’t want to, hoping the tone being kept light would sway him to respond. Harry had always liked his dorky tone, right?

At this text being ignored, Peter’s spirits were starting to be dampened. Maybe this was it. Maybe it was the final straw. Maybe Harry was finally done with him, or of the burden of Peter and Spider-Man as the package deal that they were. They had been friends since they were kids, after all, Peter figured he only had so many redeeming qualities and a limited time with anyone before they became disinterested with him.

Peter stopped swinging by Harry’s usual spots as often, but near every time he did he saw the sway of Harry’s body and the trembling hands. Peter was worried, more worried than he had been in a while. It seemed Harry was getting sicker again in more ways than one, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Turning up at Harry’s office would only make Harry shut him out more. He couldn’t risk that, not when he felt so distanced from his boyfriend already, if he could still even call them that.

The buzz of his phone came only moments after Peter had pulled the sheets over his head, back home after hours upon hours of swinging round the streets and stopping every bit of crime he had come across. He was equal parts hungry and tired, but once he’d tucked himself up in bed even the promise of a full stomach wasn’t enough to coax him back out. His hand, however, had snaked out of the blanket to reach for his phone, idly checking it. He assumed it was someone from class asking about an assignment last minute, May checking his was alright after the thud of him coming in through the window unceremoniously.

He hadn’t expected Harry’s name to be on his screen, staring back at him in the form of a message and three missed calls. Apprehensively, he unlocked his phone.

“Come over, Pete.”


	2. Attracted.

The three words were static on his screen and yet they buzzed and danced about his skull as he hurled himself out of the warm embrace of his sheets, grumbling slightly as the cold enveloped his frame instead. It was only 11, not so late that it would look strange for him to head out, so he decided against sneaking out of the window. He left Spider-Man at home, figuring that Harry was drunk and would need _Peter_ , not his masked self.

As Peter waved to May and headed out of the door, he sent a text off to Felicia asking if Harry was at the office or at home. She got back to him immediately confirming Peter’s assumption that Harry hadn’t left the office in days. Peter sighed out loud but thanked the woman via text, buying and scarfing down a hot dog whilst he waited for a cab.

The elevator ride up to Oscorp felt longer than usual, the slight feeling of dread and anticipation mingled and hung in the air around Peter. He didn’t know what state Harry would be in, didn’t know how sick he would look or how much he must have had to drink to be texting Peter back but none of it sat well with him. Maybe Harry only told him to come over to break it off properly. It had been at least two weeks since they’d talked, nearing the third week. That was it. Peter was sure Harry was going to break it off with him, probably whilst heavily intoxicated, too.

He stepped out of the elevator as he reached Harry’s floor, awkwardly smiling at Felicia as she let him in to the office without a word or a question. “Harry going to make you go grey prematurely too?” He asked, getting a slight smile and nod from the woman as he pushed open the door to Harry’s office.

Alcohol was the first thing Peter could smell as he walked through to Harry’s office. It was faint, but it was very much there, and Peter couldn’t be sure if it was his heightened senses or if Harry had spiralled just a bit too much. He stepped through to the office and let the door fall shut behind him, seeing Harry move up from laying down on the sofa, gradually taking the shape of a human rather than a mass of dark clothes.

“You okay, Har?” Peter asked, speaking softly and trying to act as if no time had passed, as if he wasn’t worried about Harry, as if he wasn’t dreading the breakup he could really see happening.

“- needed to see you.” Harry’s voice was cold and strained, sounding as if he hadn’t spoken for a while. As he had only sat up, not stood or moved to greet Peter, Peter moved over to the sofa and sat down next to him, an intentional and measured distance left between them.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Peter being full of dread, but he figured Harry was feeling the same. He saw Harry glance at him out of the corner of his eye, and before he knew it the gap between them was filled in and Harry’s lips were against his own. Peter wanted to protest, to pull away, he knew he ought to, but he found himself entranced by the kiss. And it was as if no time had passed, just as always. But at least Harry wouldn’t kiss him if they were breaking up, right?

Peter’s eyes had closed as the kiss continued, only opening again when the kiss broke off. He felt Harry’s weight on top of him before he saw it, raising a brow in question as Harry moved to straddle his lap. This time when Harry leant in, Peter held back, tilting his head back just enough to leave their lips apart, feeling Harry’s breath against his skin. He saw the fear of rejection immediately pool in Harry’s eyes, so he didn’t hesitate to speak.

“Are you drunk?” Peter asked, tone casual and controlled, keeping his head back to keep their lips apart, seeing that look of fear in Harry’s eyes start to fade away with the motive for Peter’s disconnect becoming clear. It was Peter’s way of asking for consent, though it was less direct it would still keep his conscience clean.

Harry pulled back slightly, just enough for Peter to be able to stop straining his neck and for the two of them to maintain eye contact that little bit easier. “If I told you no,” Harry started, speaking quietly as he leaned in to close the gap with a chaste kiss, depriving them both of the heat and passion their kisses usually contained, ”Would you believe me?”.

Peter thought upon that, allowing Harry to lean in as he observed him, a second kiss being planted on his lips followed by one to his jaw, and then his neck in a slow succession before a hand went up to Harry’s shoulder, holding him back just enough to study his features, to gently hold him away for long enough for Peter to think without his libido taking over.

“I think so,” Peter finally gave Harry a response, eyes still tracing over his form as if intoxication was a disease that presented as physically as his retroviral hypodysplasia. Of course there were signs of drunkness, but signs he more often saw in Harry when the heir assumed no one was watching, when his guard was down. “I trust you.” He concluded, leaning in to kiss Harry but this time he was the one who was stopped.

Peter gave Harry a questioning look, but didn’t rush Harry to speak even at the promise of sex. “Do I seem drunk?” Harry asked, aware that the pile of empty bottles in his office trash can and the smell that seemed to linger would make any logical man answer yes without missing a beat, and that was without considering the impulsive text and jump to get on Peter even after their time apart.

But Peter knew better, was less presumptuous. And, more importantly, he could feel Harry’s uncertainty from a mile off. The way he held back immediately as Peter held him, the way he didn’t push, the way he behaved. Something was off about Harry, but that something didn’t appear to come from a bottle.

“No.” He responded, a small smile forming about his mouth “You’re too nervous to be.”

Judging by the way Harry’s mouth moved to pout and brows furrowed, Peter knew he was right. His hand moving up the back of Harry’s thigh to squeeze at his ass slightly, sure he’d hit some sort of nerve by being able to read Harry so effortlessly, even if the other wouldn’t admit it.

Harry shoved Peter’s shoulder gently in protest “I am not nervous,” he whined, though they both knew it wasn’t the truth. It was natural for things to feel uncertain after their time apart, and as they talked Peter was comforted with the knowledge that Harry cared enough to apologise for ignoring his messages - albeit the tone it was said in was bratty, Peter had expected no less.

Before they knew it, they were back into their routine, into each other's rhythms. The jokes came easily and the conversation did too, uncertainty in Harry’s actions, doubts and worries in the back of Peter’s mind fading away all together as they made a particular sort of mess of Harry’s office, bodies working together now their minds weren’t working so far apart.

By the time the night was over, it was as if nothing had ever happened. Like no time had passed at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. Have. I'd call it fluff but it's more filler.
> 
> Again, this was more of a writing exercise than anything else. I had the idea and didn't want it to go to waste, so I hope it was at least worth the read and worth a kudos or something.


End file.
